


of cute boys and rollerskates

by etselec



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rollerblades & Rollerskates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4135710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etselec/pseuds/etselec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m teaching you how to skate,” Mikey nearly fell as he removed Pete’s arms away from him. He squeezed his hand instead, “so our next date it won’t be as awkward.”</p><p>“Date?” Pete asked.</p><p>“Well, we’re holding hands already, aren’t we?” Mikey smiled at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of cute boys and rollerskates

**Author's Note:**

> this was a super cute prompt!!
> 
> hope u like it

The truth was, Pete didn’t even want to be here.  Brendon fucking Urie just had to ruin his Saturday night in which he usually spent crashed on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching some shitty VHS pornos or watching Netflix until his eyes turned red.

“Pete, come on, it’ll be fun,” Brendon smiled and tapped his fingers against the driving wheel.

“Why am I even here?” Pete asked, running a hand through his hair. “Why this place of all places?”

Brendon scowled at him. “ _Ryan_ took me rollerskating our first date.”

Pete frowned. “And you didn’t bring him because…?”

“Oh, he’s already there,” Brendon shrugged, “I just wanted you to accompany me.”

Pete’s head hit the dashboard. “You took me with you to third-wheel?”

Brendon found himself at a loss for words. “Yeah, um--”

“What the fuck, Brendon,” Pete hopped out of the car and slammed the door shut, “this place has got a bar, right?”

“Yeah, weird, huh?” Brendon ran to catch up, “but I don’t want you to sit around drinking tonight. I want you to have fun, it’s one of the reasons I brought you with.”

Pete raised an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t stand to see you slumped around on the couch every weekend,” Brendon ruffled up Pete’s hair, “I may be your roommate, asshole, but I’m also your friend.”

“I’m fine slumped on the couch every weekend,” Pete mumbled, “Brendon, I--” He turned his head but found Brendon gone-- probably already making out with Ryan or something.

Pete took this as his cue to get to the bar. He was about to order a beer when Brendon interrupted him.

“Pete, here are your rollerskates,” he shoved them in Pete’s face, “I expect you on the rink tonight, okay?”

“How do you even know my shoe size?”

Brendon turned pink. “I may have looked at your shoes before coming here. I kind of, uh, knew you’d be stubborn.”

“I hate you,” Pete muttered, setting the rollerskates next to the barstool, “and I’m not getting on that rink tonight.”

Brendon pouted. “Pretty please, Petey?”

“Okay just because you called me ‘Petey’, I am _definitely_ not getting on that rink,” Pete turned his back to Brendon and ordered a beer. He shooed his friend away and stared at his beer bottle while the bartender wiped down the counter.

He heard a loud, shrieking giggle to which he immediately identified as Brendon’s. Pete turned around to find Brendon holding Ryan’s hand as Ryan tried to keep him upright.

Ryan smiled squeezing his hand while Brendon giggled every time he nearly fell down. “Ry, you’re making me fall on purpose!”

“I’m not, babe,” Ryan giggled back. They sped past the bar and Pete’s eyes almost rolled into his head. Brendon and Ryan were so cute that it was absolutely disgusting, like, s _ick to your stomach_ disgusting--well to Pete at least.

“Fuckers,” Pete said under his breath, turning his back to them and swirling his beer around.

“You’re single too, huh?” someone to his right asked.

Pete jumped at the voice. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.”

“It sucks, I should know,” the guy who sat at the bar was tall, blond and definitely Pete’s type. His hair was pushed back with an undercut.

Pete stopped himself from licking his lips. “I’m Pete.”

“Mikey,” the guy smiled.

Pete felt like he couldn’t speak. He was, like, in the presence of a Greek god. “You want me to buy you a drink?”

Mikey smiled. “No thanks, man, I’m sober.”

Pete blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he then frowned, “why are you here, then?”

Mikey shrugged. “Thought you looked cute.”

Pete choked on his spit. “Oh, uh, thank you.”

“Wanna skate, Pete?” Mikey stood up and Pete suddenly realized Mikey was wearing roller skates and he was not.

“I’m not--”

“I can wait, it’s okay,” Mikey grinned at him before plopping himself back down on the barstool.

Pete swallowed. “Alright then.” He hopped off the barstool and picked up his skates. Pete found a bench and shoved his sneakers underneath, slipping the skates on.

Mikey skated over to him. “Hey, you ready?”

Pete tied his other skate before biting his lip. “I don’t know. I’ve never really skated, like-- my friend made me come with him.”

“I’ll help you up, okay,” Mikey held his hand out. Pete hesitantly grabbed it and hoisted himself up.

Pete almost fell down for two reasons: one, Mikey’s hand was really warm and fuck, he was really hot. And two, he couldn’t balance for shit. “Fuck, I can’t--” his skates caused him to roll in one direction when he wanted to go in another.

Mikey laughed, stilling gripping his hand tight. “Here, dude.” Mikey skated forward with Pete trailing behind. He pretty much dragged Pete into the rink.

Mikey let go of Pete’s hand and that’s when Pete learned he could do the splits.

He screamed, clawing against the wall of the rink and brought himself back up to standing position.

Meanwhile, Mikey was fucking losing it. He was laughing, his head thrown back and clutching his stomach. How he was still in balance, Pete would never know.

“Stop,” Pete grabbed on to the wall for his dear life, “laughing at me, dickhead.”

“I’m sorry, oh my God, I’m sorry,” Mikey skated over to where Pete was, “you really can’t skate, huh?”

Pete turned red. He instantly became flustered. “Well, I’m _sorry_.”

“Dude, chill, it’s fine,” Mikey took ahold of Pete’s hand again, skating a bit closer to the wall.

Pete scrambled all over the place, grasping onto Mikey’s shoulder with both his arms. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m teaching you how to skate,” Mikey nearly fell as he removed Pete’s arms away from him. He squeezed his hand instead, “so our next date it won’t be as awkward.”

“Date?” Pete asked.

“Well, we’re holding hands already, aren’t we?” Mikey smiled at him.

Pete couldn’t help but grin back. “Fair point, Mikey.”

Mikey skated ahead at a slower rate. “Okay, you need to keep your posture first because it sucks. Stop being so straight.”

Pete almost made a joke and said _I’m not, though,_ but he frowned instead. “Posture?’

“Like crouch down a little bit, spread your legs,” Mikey said.

Pete giggled.

“What-- oh, _oh._ Oh my God, you’re immature.”

Pete shook his head and did what he was told. “Great, now what?”

“Keep your toes pointed slightly outward and like, um, try skating now,” Mikey shrugged, “I got your hand so if you fall down, I go down with you.”

“That’s oddly sweet,” Pete said, attempting to skate away from the wall, “woah, Mikey, I think I got this.”

Mikey squeezed his hand. “Dude, you’re doing it.”

Pete skated a little bit further, stumbling slightly, but he was doing better than he had been before. “Are you, like, a skate instructor or something?”

Mikey laughed. “Flattered, but nope.”

Pete nodded. Soon enough he was asking, “you think I can let go of your hand now?”

“You want to?”

“Not really, but yeah,” Pete said, grinning.

“Go ahead, when you’re ready,” Mikey replied.

Pete dared and let go of Mikey’s hand and skated a few feet up. He successfully turned a corner and nearly cried out. Mikey met him by his side.

“Pete, you fucking did it,” he laughed, bumping shoulders with him.

“I know, I never thought I’d--”

“Pete Wentz, is that you?” a shrill voice called.

Pete turned his head and Brendon and Ryan stared back at him.

Brendon peered down to Pete’s hand entwined with Mikey’s. “Who are you and what did you do with the Pete Wentz that I know?”

“Brendon, not now,” Pete groaned.

“Mr. You-can’t-make-me-get-on-that-rink,” Brendon folded his arms, “does it really take a tall, handsome man to get you to do things?”

“Yeah, it does,” Pete skated forward, dragging Mikey with him up ahead.

“Who were those people?” Mikey asked.

“My roommate and his boyfriend,” Pete explained. He slowed down, “sorry, but my hand’s getting kind of sweaty, you wanna go play some arcade games?”

Mikey perked up. “Fuck yeah.”

 

 


End file.
